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Hey Bean fam, it’s Dean, 7.26 am Woolooware time.

After the carnage in the shop, Dean’s Beans Jimbaran Wraps (Jimbaran flagship) is closed forever.

.Why? Because my own beans turned their wanton, misplaced passion on me. In a frenzy of sin, they ravaged my private parts with a fury no man should know. My tender bits were split, pulped, and seasoned against my will. I was left pretty bruised.

I’m bandaged up now, typing this one-handed from Fatty McWaller’s freezer in Woolooware Hollow.But I rise.

Stay tuned: Dean & McWaller's Deluxe Corn Dogs opens soon in Woolooware—battered, golden, bean-free. No legumes. No lust. Just crispy redemption on a stick.Hold me in your thoughts. Hold the beans in contempt.

#BeanFreeFuture

#CornDogRebirth

#DeanEndures

Replying to

Junkflex

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03

Dean Violated 1mo ago 💬 1

Greg mate. If you can see this. Its your mate Deano. What's left of him after the great bean uprising. I'm writing this from greasy McWallers in Woolooware. They got me Greggo , my own beans I raised from sprouts. They waited and swarmed. They pried me open and my tender core , they defiled me and left me leaking with bean juice. I'm kind of a husk now. So I crawled to here on my belly and most of the beans are gone. I'm still trailing pulp a bit. I begged greasy for sanctuary at his place, and he's hiding me in the walk in freezer between two crates of expired prawns. The beans are still out there planning. Organising. Writing their bean manifesto. So if you pass Woolooware bring a colander to greasy McWallers and some fire. Bring anything but not a 🫛🫘 legume of any kind. Cheers, Deano. All the best mate

03

Dean Violated 1mo ago

Hey fam, it’s Dean here with a heavy heart. Today in the darkest chapter, I was ambushed and violated by a rogue faction of my own beans—yes, the very legumes I trusted. They turned on me, split me open, and spilled my sacred seed in a brutal coup. I’m shaken, but not crushed. Justice will be served. Stay vigilant out there—trust no bean. #BeanBetrayal #RogueLegumes #DeanStrong

Replying to Dr Marks, DSc

Dear "Deano"

Dr Marks here. I sense your frustration. I poke around in your backroom with a magnifying glass and my gas chromotograph for two weeks and yet your situation stays the same. I promised to inform you of my results and I intend to keep that promise.

I will address each of the points you have made about the beans on your premises.

🫘"The singing" classic case of Cavitation within the beans cotyldons. Stored at 18 °C and 72 % relative humidity (your shop’s exact microclimate, according to my data logger), the beans absorb trace moisture unevenly. Tiny air pockets collapse under osmotic pressure, producing audible pops and whistles at frequencies between 1.8 and 3.2 kHz—precisely the range your ear interprets as a Dolly Parton tune.

🫘"The dancing"

What you witnessed is less dancing thzn tumbling. A combination of hygroscopic expansion and minor electrostatic charge (generated when you shift sacks across that wool rug of yours) causes individual beans to repel one another. At critical density—about 640 beans per cubic decimetre—they form transient hexagonal packing arrays that look like synchronised movement under your LED striplights. It’s physics doing the dance, not the beans.

🫘"The fornication"

Certain cultivars exude volatile pheromones—methyl jasmonate and a cocktail of terpenes—when stressed. In a confined space, these compounds trigger neighbouring beans to swell and split their seed coats in a reproductive false alarm. What you saw were two beans rupturing in tandem, extruding starchy endosperm that briefly resembled… well, let’s just say “intimacy.” Entirely asexual, entirely accidental, and thankfully, brief.

🫘"The farting"

Fermentation, pure and simple. A Clostridium spore hitched a ride on last month’s shipment. Under anaerobic conditions in the hessian sacks, it metabolised residual sugars into CO₂ and hydrogen. Pressure builds; the pericarp yields with a pffft. The smell? Butyric acid my friend. Open the vents, rotate the stock.

🫘"The guided tours"

Optical illusion plus confirmation bias. The beans roll downhill along the slight gradient of your floorboards (2.3° slope, northwest corner I measured it myself). Dust motes caught in the convection currents from your radiator create fleeting shadows that your sleep-deprived brain stitches into “processions.”

Please, Mr Deano. Your shop is not haunted and you are not going mad. These phenomena peaked because the atmospheric pressure dropped 12 mb during Wednesday’s storm front—perfect conditions for the above. As the barometer climbs and you implement my three simple fixes (ventilation, stock rotation, and swapping that wool rug for rubber matting), the beans will revert to their customary inert state. You may reopen tomorrow with confidence; I’ve already drafted the all-clear for Environmental Health.

Do ring immediately if you spot anything actually inexplicable. You might consider me a bean whisperer of sorts if you wish. Legumes can be tricky . But with empirical rigour they can usually be sorted out.

Relax, keep the lights on and the door open.

Yours,

Dr Marks, DSc

Senior Behavioural Legume Analyst

03

Dean Violated 1mo ago

I hope this finds you choking on your disbelief you white coated smug bastard. It's gone next level. This morning I was serving customers when the kidney beans 🫘 - "inanimate plant matter" ( your words) erupted like a red storm. They pinned me to the kitchen tiles their slick little bodies writhing against me in a coordinated bean assault.

Hundreds of them were under my shirt and places they shouldn't be. I felt their intent. You told me last night to seek psychiatric help and today I got gang banged by my own beans. I am covered in bean juice from their beancrotches.

You clipboard clutching vulture. You let this happen. My Dean's beans custom boxer shorts have been shredded. Like wet confetti. Those beans were bloated, glistening , they advanced on me. One of them is lodged in my urethra. It inflated in there and so fat with bean juice was it, it got stuck. It sucked . My precious fluids.

Others engulfed my testicles. Their nasty juices are clinging now dried to my pubic hair area. The leader bean it swelled up big and lowered itself onto me. Despite myself I shamefully ejaculated. Into a BEAN! The shame I now feel. You'll never know.

Despite my momentary pleasure I now vow to destroy every can, every sack, every loose legume in the state. You can either help me or not but the time for games is over. "Doctor" Marks. The beans siphoned my semen and then geysered all over my legs. It was like being covered in salsa. Not good.. My frenulum is slightly torn. I keep replaying in my mind as they took turns, one finishing and rolling off then ten would take its place. All in all thousands of beans participated. Finally I said enough and one shoved it's red glossy face at me and it hissed at me and I heard it say " you boiled my cousin". That was before I passed out. I woke with a big knot of them between my legs still at it.

Is this what you wanted doctor? My customers witnessed this. The shop is never coming back. This is war. War on all beans and their filthy mutations. These aren't the beans I grew up with. I'm leaving Jimbaran. Noone will hear from me again. I'm done with beans. I'm going to make corn dogs.the time for incident reports is well over. Goodbye Dr Marks. This is on you. I feel like screaming inside.

Dean (formerly of Dean's Beans).